Finally
by notyourbro
Summary: Emily suggests that Chris and Josh stop eye-fucking and get a room already. They take her advice, but Chris' layers don't make it easy.


Josh was giving him the look. The "I'm going to fuck you if it's the last thing I do" look.

Chris was squirming uncomfortably. It was freezing in the lodge, but he found himself sweating underneath all his layers. "Dude, stop," he hissed.

Josh raised an eyebrow and gave him a half-smile that was _far_ more attractive than it had any right to be. "Stop what?" he asked.

"That thing. The thing you're doing. Stop it."

The half-smile turned into a shit-eating grin, and Chris felt the sudden warmth of Josh's hand on his leg. He tried to move away, but he seemed frozen in place, and next thing he knew Josh's shoulder was pressed against his. His breath tickled Chris' ear as he whispered, "I'm afraid I'm going to need you to be a little more specific, Cochise."

Chris glanced down, where Josh's hand was creeping further up his thigh. He swallowed and looked back at his boyfriend, trying to give him a stern, I-mean-it stare. When Josh's eyes just danced mischievously—undeterred, as usual—Chris tried to say something. What actually came out of his mouth was, "Um."

Josh was leaning forward to close the distance between their lips when a loud groan echoed through the room. Only one person could groan with such commitment.

"Can we not do the eye-fucking thing all night, please?" Emily complained. "If you're going to bang, just do it already."

Chris blushed furiously as she sauntered across the room, a glass of wine in hand. She plopped down in front of the crackling fireplace as Josh smirked at her, not seeming the least bit embarrassed. "Sounds like someone's just jealous," he said.

Emily gave Chris a lingering once-over and took a sip from her glass. "Oh, honey," she cooed to Josh. "You can have him."

Chris was about ready to sprint out into the snow, but Jess appeared just then, a beer in one hand and a smile on her face. He relaxed a little; Jess was a good person to have around in these scenarios.

She joined Emily by the fire, nudging closer to the dark-haired girl until Emily grumbled, "You could just _ask_ ," and let the blonde climb into her lap. Jess gave a contented sigh, and Emily rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched up with the hint of a smile.

"Where is everyone?" Jess asked, glancing around the empty room. "It's so quiet tonight."

"The three musketeers disappeared, as usual," Emily said, referring to Sam, Beth and Hannah. "And Mike and Matt are probably alone in a room, drunk and grumbling about how gay we all are."

Jess snorted, mumbling something about straight boys, and Josh said—almost defensively— "Hannah's straight."

"Easy, tiger," Emily chided. "Hannah is way too good for Mike. We've had this conversation before."

"You're the one who dated him," Josh said.

"Yes, I did. And I'm telling you, _Hannah is way too good for Mike_. He has his moments, but a fuckboy is still a fuckboy."

"Preach," Jess agreed, putting down her beer and prying the glass of wine from Emily's hand. She sniffed at it and took a cautious sip, her face twisting in a grimace as she swallowed. Emily blinked in surprise—few people dared to take anything from Emily, let alone expensive wine—before her face broke out in a grin.

"Not a fan?" she asked.

"No, it's great," Jess choked. "It's great, babe. You can have it back now." She pushed the glass back into Emily's hand, the dark-haired girl looking at her with so much affection that Chris felt compelled to avert his gaze. But he was glad he didn't, because as soon as Emily turned away, Jess looked at him with wide eyes and mimed a gagging motion. Chris smiled and made a mental note to talk to Jess more often; he could see why she was the one to crack Emily's shell.

Jess nuzzled her head into Emily's shoulder, and Emily gave the boys an imploring look. "So are you two going to get a room or what?"

"There are plenty of rooms in this lodge, Em," Josh retorted. "You could always get one."

"Yes, but I would like to sit by the fire with my lady." She wrapped an arm around Jess' waist, and Jess' face lit up at the attention. "And I'm afraid this is the only place that's possible, so… Shoo, shoo." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, and Josh rolled his eyes but conceded, pulling Chris up by the arm.

"Remember," Emily called after them, "the safest sex is no sex at all!"

Josh flipped her off over his shoulder, and Chris heard her cackling as they made their way upstairs. Free of distractions, Josh took Chris' hand and threaded their fingers together. "No big deal," he said. "I wasn't actually keen on fucking you on the couch anyway."

Chris felt his face flush, and he was glad for the darkness of the hallway. "Still set on that, huh?" he asked. His voice sounded tight and strange.

Josh turned to him, and Chris could make out enough of his boyfriend's face to see that he was smiling, his teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. He stepped closer, and his hands slipped inside Chris' jacket, squeezing gently at Chris' waist. "You think I'd forget that fast?" he teased.

Josh's arms wrapped around him and he pulled Chris into a kiss. It was softer than what Chris had expected, given the look he'd gotten earlier, and the tenderness surprised him. He made a small noise and felt Josh smile against his lips before pulling away. "Unless you don't want to," Josh clarified. One of his hands reached up to cup Chris' cheek, and he looked at the blonde with a little more seriousness. "Do you not want to?"

"No," Chris said, too eagerly, and Josh smiled. He nudged the blonde gently until his back was against the wall.

"So you want to, then?" he asked.

Chris nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah what?" Josh prodded, and Chris sighed. Sex with Josh was…mind-blowing, frankly, and he wasn't embarrassed about it (not even about the fact that Josh was the only person he'd ever had sex with), but talking about it still made him blush and squirm like a little kid. Josh knew what he was doing.

"Yes, I want to have sex with you." The words tumbled out of Chris in an embarrassed rush, and Josh's smile widened.

"Just getting consent, dude," he said innocently, and Chris tried to grumble, but his noise was abruptly cut off as the brunette kissed him again. There was a little more urgency now, and Josh's tongue was soon teasing at his lips, pleading for entrance. Chris was tempted to tease him right back, but he was too impatient, and Josh was too hard to resist; Chris' mouth opened, and he sighed as their tongues slid together. Josh's hands squeezed his shoulders briefly before moving down his arms, taking Chris' jacket with it. Chris complied without thinking, shimmying out of the sleeves and letting it crumple to the floor with a quiet _fwoosh_ , and Josh hummed happily at the progress. His thigh shifted until it was between Chris' legs, and when he pressed against Chris' jeans, something clicked in the blonde's brain. He broke the kiss and tried to shift his hips away, though his efforts only succeeded in increasing the friction.

Chris stilled himself. He took a breath, and then another, until he was sure he wasn't just going to moan as soon as he opened his mouth. "Correction," he said after a minute. "I want to have sex with you, but not in the hallway."

Josh chuckled and pulled himself away, and Chris was embarrassed by how fervently his body protested the lack of contact. Josh took his hand and leaned down to press a delicate kiss to the back of it.

"As you wish," he purred, and then pulled Chris toward his bedroom, both of them forgetting about the jacket lying neglected on the floor.

Josh didn't even bother with the light switch. He stumbled through the dark until he knocked into the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Chris probably would've been less of a blushy mess if they just had sex in the dark, but Josh had ruled it out from the start.

"That ruins nearly all the fun, Cochise," he'd said the first time, when Chris had nervously glanced at that very same lamp and asked if Josh planned on turning it off. Then he looked down at Chris, pinned underneath him, and his expression shifted to one of concern. "But if you want me to, I will. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Chris' thoughts warred with one another for a minute. "No," he decided. "Keep it on."

Josh couldn't hide the smile that crept onto his face when Chris said that, and he'd kissed Chris softly, one hand coming up to run through his hair. He breathed a quiet "okay" against Chris' mouth, and they kept it on.

Chris had been red-faced the entire time, and the time after that, and probably at least three-quarters of the time after that. But Josh was right. It would have ruined the fun.

The sound of a zipper coming undone brought him back to the here and now, and he blinked as his eyes focused on Josh standing in front of him. He was unzipping Chris' green sweater, and Chris noticed him frown slightly at the sight of another layer underneath. But then he saw Chris' eyes on him, and his expression softened.

"Had to get your attention somehow." His head cocked to the side curiously. "What were you thinking about?"

Always a terrible liar, Chris went with the truth. "You, honestly."

Josh bit his lower lip and smiled. _Fucking narcissist_ , Chris thought affectionately.

Having reached the bottom of Chris' sweater, Josh yanked the zipper free with a small _pop_ , and then lowered his hand even further. His fingers brushed between Chris' legs before cupping him lightly. "I'm right here," he said, and Chris' breath caught in his throat when Josh gave a slight squeeze.

"I'm well aware of that," Chris replied.

Josh's hands moved upward and started tugging at the sweater. He was humming again, thoughtfully this time, and he fell silent when Chris was freed from the second layer. "Seems like you need a reminder," he said.

Chris didn't have a witty response to that—couldn't even manage a nod, for fuck's sake—and Josh met his gaze in a long, steady look. Right when Chris thought the tension might actually kill him, Josh gave a small nod. "Bed."

The word kicked Chris into gear, and he scrambled toward the bed, nearly tumbling onto it in his haste. Josh laughed at the spectacle as Chris removed his glasses and settled himself on his back, heart thumping in his chest.

"What's the rush, Cochise?" Josh teased. He climbed over Chris until they were eye-to-eye, keeping a very frustrating gap between their bodies. "Got a hot date?"

Chris was done with quips. He lifted his head and kissed Josh, hard, one of his hands gripping the back of his neck so the fucker couldn't pull any more of this teasing. Chris pushed his hips up, but Josh was still too far above him, and he laughed into the blonde's mouth.

"Something funny?" Chris said, and he moved his hand up into Josh's curls. He gave a sharp tug, and Josh's laugh quickly turned into a moan.

"Fuck, dude," he hissed. "You are _not_ playing fair."

Chris let his hand run through Josh's hair, and he gave another pull before moving to grip the other boy's hips. He might not have been playing fair, but he got what he wanted: Josh pressed himself willingly against Chris, and when he grabbed Josh's ass to push their hips together, Josh took the hint right away.

Chris started to ease them into a rhythm, but when he shifted to spread his legs a little, Josh seemed to come to his senses. He pulled Chris' hands off him and pinned them to bed, looking down at Chris with a satisfied smirk.

"Nope," he said, and then pressed his mouth against Chris' neck. The kisses were chaste and gentle at first, and Chris was on the brink of voicing his frustration when Josh's mouth opened against his skin, and he started to suck. Hard.

"Shit," Chris said, and he tried to pull his hands free, but Josh just tightened his grip. When that didn't work, Chris bucked his hips again—the nonverbal equivalent of _come on, asshole_ —and Josh responded by grinding slowly into him. Chris moaned—both at the sensation and because his jeans were getting really uncomfortable now—and Josh, clearly pleased with himself, nipped at Chris' skin before seeking a new spot to leave a mark.

Eventually satisfied with the damage he'd done to Chris' neck—and the way Chris was positively squirming underneath him—Josh pulled away. He straddled the blonde and sat firmly on his groin, ignoring the noise that escaped from Chris' lips. He tugged at the hem of Chris' button-up and said, simply, "I want this off."

Chris complied without hesitation, hands fumbling at the buttons, and Josh furrowed his brows when the disrobing only revealed another shirt underneath. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Josh growled, and Chris huffed in apology.

"Fucking Canada, dude, it's cold," Chris defended, and Josh just made a frustrated noise as Chris tossed the button-up over the side of the bed. Josh's hands reached greedily under Chris' t-shirt and stopped when he felt another layer of fabric. He glared harshly at the blonde underneath him.

"Tank top," Chris muttered weakly, and Josh pushed it up Chris' stomach, letting out a sigh of relief when he glimpsed the blonde's soft, pale skin. As though it had reminded him, Josh pulled his own shirt over his head and then brought his mouth to Chris' stomach. He pushed the layers further up Chris' chest and commanded, "Off."

Chris tugged himself free—a difficult task with Josh mostly pinning him down, but he didn't complain—as Josh moved lower, kissing Chris' skin until he reached the waistband of his jeans. He popped the button with ease and pulled the jeans slowly over Chris' hips before flinging them onto the ground. He stripped himself rather quickly, and then got to work removing Chris' boxers, laughing a little when he saw _just_ how flustered Chris was.

"Damn," he said. Chris couldn't be sure if Josh was talking to himself or to him, but he let out a grumble of protest anyway. Josh smiled and brought himself back up to place a reassuring kiss on Chris' lips. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he said. "It was just an observation."

Josh took Chris into his hand, and Chris didn't really have any noises—angry or otherwise—left to part with; he opened his mouth in a silent gasp as Josh wrapped his fingers around him and moved gently up his length, once, twice—

Then he let go, and Chris' brain nearly imploded.

It must've shown on his face, because Josh smiled sympathetically. "All in good time," he teased. He kissed Chris again—long and deep—as his fingers brushed over the blonde's nipples. Chris arched his back in response, and Josh squeezed tighter, rolling them between his fingertips. Somewhere in his haze, Chris realized that he should probably be participating too, and he had just started to reach for Josh's dick when the brunette lowered himself out of Chris' reach.

Chris watched as Josh kissed his way down his stomach again, and he braced himself for what he thought was coming—but then Josh bypassed the area where Chris ached the most, neglecting it in favor of kissing and biting his hips and inner thighs.

His head flopped back against the pillow. Impatience eroding his inhibitions, Chris whispered a bitter, "Fuck you," and Josh barked a laugh.

"I think we're going the other way around tonight," he said, and then—without any further warning—took Chris into his mouth. Chris let out an embarrassing whine at the sensation and slammed his eyes shut, his mind entirely focused on the feeling of Josh's tongue, warm and wet and _oh my god_.

Josh had always been way too good at this, and it wasn't a terribly long time before Chris' breathing was rough and ragged. He gripped at the sheets as arousal pooled in his stomach, and then he decided _nope, fuck it_ and reached for Josh's hair instead. Josh made a muffled noise around him before giving a hard suck and pulling off. He waggled a finger at Chris, who was all but shooting him daggers. "Nuh uh," Josh said with a smirk. "Not yet."

He reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out the bottle of lube, taking what felt like an absurd amount of time to spread it on his fingers. Chris knew he was purposely giving him time to come back just so he could work him back up again, and Chris wanted to kick him for it. But then his legs were being spread open, and Josh asked if he was ready, and Chris nodded so fast he thought his neck might snap.

It took all of Chris' energy not to fall apart underneath Josh's fingers, and Chris heard pleading _hurry up hurry up hurry up_ 's before he realized those pleas were coming from him. His next realization was that Josh _was_ hurrying. Chris had been closing his eyes quite a bit, but now that opened them again, he could see that Josh was _really_ worked up, and the sight was very, very satisfying.

"For fuck's sake, _Josh_ ," he said, and Josh groaned a little at the way his name sounded in Chris' mouth, nearly sending Chris over the edge.

God, they were a fucking mess.

Josh scrambled for the lube and a condom, getting things done _much_ faster now. Soon he was asking permission again, and Chris didn't bother with a nod; his mouth spewed _yes_ until Josh drowned it out with _okay_ and _shit_ and _fuck_. Their words devolved into gasping as Josh entered him, and the only thing running through Chris' mind was _finally_.

Finally, finally, _finally_.

From there, everything was hot and frantic. Chris came first—unsurprising, giving everything Josh had put him through—and Josh followed shortly after. He collapsed on top of Chris, breathing heavily, until Chris finally forced him off so they could clean themselves up. It was early enough that they could (probably should) get dressed and head back downstairs to see what everyone was up to, but they didn't. They fell right back into bed, a tangle of tired limbs.

If there was one thing that put Josh Washington sleep, it was sex, and they were quiet for long enough that Chris started to suspect he was out. But then he stirred, reaching across Chris' stomach to link their fingers together. He shifted closer and pressed his lips gently to Chris' temple. It was soft and sweet.

And then he whispered, "That's what you get for wearing so many layers, asshole."


End file.
